Can it have only been three weeks? It seems like so many moons ago that I was still pregnant and awaiting his arrival. While everyone tells me that the time passes so quickly when your child grows up, I feel like Alastair has been with us for so much longer than three weeks. Maybe it's the lack of consecutive hours of sleep that is skewing my perception of time and reality.
He is definitely very different from the baby we brought home from the hospital. He has definitely gotten bigger and heavier. Finally, the "Newborn" size clothing is starting to get a little snug in certain places. His little hands and fingers are fleshing out. His facial features seem to change and develop every day.
Not only is his physical form changing, but he is beginning to realize and interact with the world around him. He acknowledges and reaches out for the dangly, jangly toys on the side of his bassinet. My hair is of endless fascination for him when I bend over the changing table. Yesterday, he noticed the mirror and mobile above his swing. The daytime hours are beginning to be more wakeful (which means he commands a lot more of my attention!).
So far my favorite thing is when he zonks out on my chest with his head nestled under my chin. The other day I actually ate lunch with him like that rather than disturb him. I try to remember those peaceful moments when he is wailing in my face for no apparent reason.
In other non-Alastair news, I was saddened to hear that Michelle Kwan won't even make an attempt at a third Olympic medal. To be honest, I had serious doubts that she was even a medal contender. It would have been great to see her capture the gold and be the first skater to hold all three medals, but her time has come and gone. She was totally robbed of her rightful gold in Nagano by that upstart Lipinski.
Not that Marilyn Manson is high on my list anyway, he's totally on notice now for this stupid movie he is cooking up. Um yeah, a goth-horror film about Lewis Carroll? An eccentric but painfully shy Victorian mathematician with a child-like imagination? Whatever. Manson is totally defaming my beloved Carroll with his sensationalistic dreck. But there's this side of me that so totally wants to see it. Sigh. Such a moral quandry.